Something Noire
by lizteroid
Summary: Old fashioned Brarl.


_Author's Note:: _Brarl fic, set during Season Five. The Lawyer and the Client.

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He arrived at her home, dressed in his best Vanderbilt suit and his good coat, also with his sturdy shoes. He parked up his car on the driveway and got out, looking around the neighbourhood as he fixed the pin in his tie before starting up the pathway to her front door. He gave three sharp knocks on the hardwood and it opened like a secret entrance to a gangsters' paradise, revealing behind it, his client. She gave a subtle raise of her elegant brow and with a casual smirk she invited him inside and closed the door with a click.

With him now inside, the client looked to him over her shoulder. He noticed she wore something more slinkier than the usual ensemble she sported in his presence. A mid-calf wrap dress, it hugged her curves in all the right and tasteful places. She walked, swaying her hips and making the bottom of her dress fan out with each step she took until she reached the cabinet and poured him out a scotch, on the rocks.

As she handed him the glass, she let their fingers brush together and she tilted her head back a little, looking up at him, narrowing her eyes and giving her a seductive look across her face. He looked into her eyes, she was playful yet, she had a certain prowess lingering there, like at any moment she would pounce! She didn't however and she smirked knowingly, feeling his eyes upon her body as she walked away from him again. He eyed her body. [i]'That delightful body…Mmm…'[/i] He smiled appreciatively as she then bent to remove the cushion from the chair and glanced over her should at him, smirking with her eyes still narrow.

Softly, the redhead sat down, looking directly at her 'private detective'. Sure he was private and detective…of course! He frisked her and examined every bit of her body like no other man had ever done before. It was all her game. Looking him directly in the eyes, she sipped her own drink, a dry Martini, shaken and stirred. He was leaning against the wall watching her as he gently looked into his scotch glass and through the bottom of it as he drained the liquor and gave an exhale as it went down a treat.

The redhead crossed her legs, letting a little bit of thigh flash to him as he eyes her milky skin, like cream, porcelain in the sense of how delicate it was. He wanted to feel it against his own once again. His eyes caught sight of the top of her stocking, white, pure. Just as she pretended to be. Pure. He could see right through it though and he loved how she really was. He could treat her how she wanted to be treated. Sometimes the housewife. Sometimes the whore. He focused on that thigh, wanting to see more, more of her tremendously white skin, almost as though it had not been touched before by a man, but he knew better, he'd touched it, he'd marked it before. And he wanted it again.

He began to walk to her. Moving behind her and looking down on her, looking to her flame red hair as it glistened in the pale moonlight, shining through in chinks from the crack in the drapes which hung almost ominously at the French windows. He reached over and took her glass from her hand, making sure he got close to her ear and into which he whispered an obscenity enough to make the dockers gasp, but she. She smirked and nodded, blinking gently as if he'd suggested they take a picnic.

Swiftly, he moved around to be before her form, he grabbed at her hand and pulled her close to his muscular body, even noticeable under his expensive suit, she moaned into the kiss they shared and pressed even tighter to him than when he had pulled her close. He pushed her back into the wall, kissing her neck hungrily as she moaned loudly, sandwiched between the wall and his body. Then she felt his hand moving from her hip to her thigh, lifting it up before he smoothed over the stocking top, her arms weaved around his neck as she arched to his touches.

He finally got his belt open and moved his hand back to Bree's raised thigh. He unclasped one of the clips on her suspender belt, holding up the stockings she wore. He did that to all three remaining clips and pulled her panties aside before he pushed into her harshly. The redhead moaned aloud and she pushed her hips down, taking him deeper inside her, wanting him all. He thrust into her, harshly, tonight was her whorish side. Both of them enjoyed it, feeling the hot, passion and fire urging them towards their edge of pleasure.

Finally it happened.

They came. Her muscles tightened around his member, hard and throbbing as he jerked inside of her before he let his seed sow inside her core. She gasped feeling this and smirked before pulling his lips close to hers and kissing him deeply, wanting more but not knowing how to achieve it. He had an idea though. They should have a relationship, of course after her husband was out of the frame, which was his job. He was of course the hit man.

**End.**


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